


Rage, Rage Against the Dying of the Light

by musicmillennia



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dragon Riders, Dragons, Gen, Jim just wants to go fucking feral, Modern Fantasy, Tarsus IV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:54:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24458527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/musicmillennia
Summary: When Jim Kirk screams, he moves mountains. Literally.[In which Jim is so angry he wakes an ancient dragon.]
Relationships: James T. Kirk & USS Enterprise
Comments: 41
Kudos: 229





	Rage, Rage Against the Dying of the Light

**Author's Note:**

> if any of y'all know even a little bit about me, you know a dragon au was comin'.

Dragon bone is one of the strongest materials in the known universe, especially the gigantic prehistoric ones, before dragons evolved more birdlike qualities with their dinosaur cousins. When Starfleet first formed, building ships from the bones was, according to many, a stroke of genius. This became especially true when modern dragons became attracted to the scent and checked out what the crazy humans were up to.

Now Starfleet has a special Dragon Corps, made of independent and mounted dragons that fly alongside their ships. Starfleet has adjusted their ship design accordingly, adding a large round saucer for the dragons to rest on if they need while exploring space.

Jim's dad hadn't been a rider, but a shard of the _Kelvin_ 's draconic foundation is the only tangible piece of him left. As a kid, he resents dragons—resents everything, really—and then.

Then, when he can't take another step, a dragon descends like an avenging angel from the stars, and a consciousness made of battle-hardened gentleness whispers to him, _We are here, little one._

Being ensconced in those wings is the safest Jim's ever felt in his life. Stripped to the bone, all his kids can do is cry, and while he, their leader, isn't allowed, he comes pretty damn close.

While in the hospital, he finds the dragon's name. Valkyrie. She doesn't have a harness, but has signed up to look at candidates.

Jim Kirk still wouldn't touch Starfleet with a ten foot pole, but he starts visiting Riverside's shipyard after that. Sees the bones being infused with metal and alloy, and the dragons that help with the construction, carrying workers to the highest points. They're magnificent.

He wonders what it's like to fly. Driving his dad's car off a cliff is the closest he gets.

But no. He will not join Starfleet.

* * *

He joins Starfleet.

In his defense, he'd been at the Fuck It stage, where rock bottom looks like shallow water. He's been there before; Pike just gave him a reason to start climbing out.

It's ridiculous. It's reckless. The guy next to him, McCoy he calls himself, has a list a mile long why he shouldn't be there.

Obviously that just spurs him on.

* * *

Which brings him to here: the base of a mountain outside the city.

How he got here is a blur. He didn't even stop to take off his cadet reds. He's missing his next class.

Bones is comming him again. Jim thinks about crushing it underfoot. He's got a different section of Starfleet History, different professor and all. Jim's spinning head registers the time. Bones is there now, knows exactly what today's class is covering. Did he ditch?

Jim still doesn't answer. He wouldn't hear Bones over the echoing in his head anyway.

They'd had a debate. A _debate_. As in, the cadets had to come up with well-thought arguments about—their calm, clipped tones clash with whimpers and gunfire.

The guards had used real guns. Scared citizens into shouting, revealing their position. Jim'd lost three kids to that.

Kids. Innocent fucking kids. And they had a _debate_ on whether those deaths were _justified_.

Jim's lungs sound like bellows, stoking the fire in his gut. He'd tried, oh he'd tried so hard to come up with counterarguments, but he couldn't see past the bones, the blood, so much _blood_ —

He screams.

Jim's screamed plenty of times, especially after getting back to Earth. That cliff he'd driven his dad's car off is probably still vibrating. But, absently, he realizes he hasn't screamed quite like this before: deep and throat-tearing, with every bit of muscle he's stolen from stunted growth and broken bones. His entire body is trembling from beginning to end. This scream can start an earthquake.

No. Wait. He's not screaming, is he?

He's _roaring_.

Justified? _Justified_? Oh, would that the professor could hear him now. She'd figure it out, of course, but in that moment, Jim doesn't give a flying fuck who knows. Let the entire fucking city of San Fran-fucking-cisco know that a survivor of Tarsus IV is going to tear the Academy apart.

_Justified_. _Was Kodos justified in his actions?_

Jim's roar reaches a new depth. His fingernails are digging hard into his palms. He wonders if he'll bleed. Unlikely, but maybe if he did, some of this rage would leave with it. If he bled himself dry, he wouldn't be about to combust.

His breath runs out. He pants loudly, half-bent at the waist.

That felt good.

That felt _really fucking good_.

Slowly, Jim straightens. Looks up at the mountain, then above that, to the sky. Cloudless, bright blue. Maybe if Jim squints hard enough, he can see the stars behind it.

The ground shakes.

Jim staggers and curses. Of all the times for an—earth...quake.

The mountain is moving.

Jim falls on his ass as _wings_ emerge from the top, a span like he's never seen, thick and leathery brown spotted with gray streaks. Next, a talon, way too close to Jim, who yelps and scrambles back on an undignified crabwalk. It's covered in dirt and serrated, not at all the pristine curve of the Academy's get.

A ridged spine follows the wings, spiked with blades as big as Jim. And then, finally, a head.

Two eyes, glowing gold—command gold, Jim's hysterical brain thinks—and beady, with a large third eye settled between them, all set in thick square jowls that have a beard of smaller spikes. Thick bones jut from above the normal eyes, almost like heavyset brows. The nostrils are barely visible slits in a set of pointed bones. Two enormous horns reach for the sky. They could impale a starship.

The dragon looks directly at Jim.

Jim nearly flattens himself to the ground as they bend their head over him. He can feel their scorching breath.

A voice makes an earthquake in his head: _You have a dragon's rage._

It is a female voice, resonant and encompassing. Jim can't think around it.

The dragon tilts her great head. _Who_ _has wronged you so?_

"I...I..."

Screaming, blood, gunfire. Justified. Fucking monsters, _justified_ —?

A rumble from the center of the Earth. No, from the _dragon_.

_How barbaric,_ the dragon hisses, showing three rows of thick fangs.

Jim wonders how his professor would think of _this_ for a counterargument.

_We can find out._

"Huh?"

The dragon leans farther forward. She seems to be as gentle as she can, but Jim still falls over from her nudge.

_I felt your anger as I have never felt before. I wish to follow you._

Follow...him? _Him_? A screw-up who shouldn't even be alive?

"I-I'm not—I'm—"

_You are._

The dragon's third eye flushes blue.

_James Tiberius Kirk._

Jim's right eye floods with heat. It's then that Jim realizes that blue is what he sees in the mirror every day.

_My flock named ourselves after our ambitions._ The dragon pushes to her full height. _I am Enterprise. I will show you the wonders of exploration. You will know there is more than your anger._

Sirens wail in the distance. Right. This dragon—Enterprise—had been a _mountain_ a few minutes ago. No way no one else saw this.

_You do not like this sound. Come. Introduce me to this 'Bones' your heart so enjoys._

Jim's pretty sure he's laughing. He might also be crying. He doesn't think he's cried since infancy.

When Enterprise presents her paw, underside up, an unknown strength propels Jim to his feet. He climbs on with shaky legs. Enterprise deposits him on top of her head, where he clings to one of her horns and the closest ridged bone. Her scales are sharp in some places, surprisingly smooth in others, with no discernible pattern.

He's not in flying gear. Doesn't even have goggles. He'll have to shut his eyes.

_No._ Pride and excitement electrify him. _With me, nothing is limited._

His left eye starts burning too. Enterprise takes off, and he gasps with the feeling. He's had to fly before in classes, but—Enterprise is right, _he doesn't need goggles_. He is riding a mountain and he doesn't need goggles!

Another rumble. This one sounds like a laugh.

_Do you see? There is so much more._

And, for once, Jim Kirk actually believes it.

**Author's Note:**

> I traveled to Alaska a couple years back. The mountains were shaped like something was curled underneath. I imagined dragons emerging from them, great beings that were actually the mountains themselves. That's where the idea for Jim's dragon came from :D pro tip, listen to the Skyrim theme song when looking at mountains, it's a w e s o m e
> 
> I'm not sure if I'll continue this one, but it was def fun to write. If I do, there's prob gon be Gay


End file.
